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Die Herrlichkeit der Erden muß Staub und Asche werden, und nichts bleibt ewig stehn: das, was uns hier ergötzet; was man für ewig schätzet, wird als ein leichter Traum vergehn. Was sind doch alle Sachen, die uns so trotzig machen, als Tand und Eitelkeit? was ist der Menschen Leben? stets mit Gefahr umgeben, währt es nur eine kurze Zeit. Was hilft uns unser Wissen? wird's, wenn wir sterben müssen, ein großerVorzug seyn? was hilft uns Macht und Ehre, so glänzend sie auch wäre? kann sie uns wohl alsdann erfreu'n? Der Ruhm, nach dem wir trachten, den wir unsterblich achten, ist nur ein falscher Wahn; so bald der Geist gewichen, und unser Leib verblichen, fragt keiner, was wir hier gethan. Wie bald wird das zerrinnen, was wir mit Müh gewinnen, was unser Fleiß erwirbt? Kann wohl, was wir besitzen, uns vor dem Tode schützen? und stirbt nicht alles, wenn man stirbt? Was sind des Lebens Freuden? wie bald folgt Angst und Leiden, und Reu auf den Genuß? was ists, womit wir prangen? wo wirst du Ehr erlangen, die nicht zuletzt verschwinden muß? Was sind selbst alle Thronen? giebt es wohl ird'sche Kronen, die unverwelklich blüh'n? kann, vor des Grabes Schrecken, der Purpur dich bedecken? die Krone dich dem Tod' entzieh'n? Wie, wenn die Sonn' aufgehet, die Rose blühend stehet in ihrer schönsten Zier, und doch verwelkt sich beuget, eh' sich der Abend zeiget: so blühen und verwelken wir. Froh wachsen wir auf Erden und hoffen, groß zu werden, von Schmerz und Sorgen frey: doch in den schönsten Tagen, noch eh' wir Früchte tragen, bricht uns des Todes Sturm entzwey. Wir rechnen Jahr' auf Jahre; inzwischen wird die Bahre vor unser Haus gebracht. Man scheidet von den Seinen, die hülflos uns beweinen, und uns bedeckt des Grabes Nacht. Dieß laßt uns wohlbedenken, und uns zum Himmel lenken, weil er uns offen steht. Wer dahin will gelangen, darf an der Welt nicht hangen, die einst mit ihrer Lust vergeht.
About the headline (FAQ)
Confirmed with Neues Gesangbuch zur öffentlichen Erbauung und Privatandacht, Nürnberg: im Verlag der Joh. Andrea Endterischen Handlung, 1791, page 260.
See also this variant of the eighth stanza: Wie, wenn die Sonn' aufgehet.
Authorship:
- by Andreas Gryphius, né Greif (1616 - 1664), no title [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- [ None yet in the database ]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , copyright © 2021, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]
This text was added to the website: 2021-06-13
Line count: 66
Word count: 326
The glory of the earth must become dust and ashes, and nothing shall remain eternally: that which enthralls us here, which one prizes as eternal, shall pass away as an insubstantial dream. What are all those things that make us so froward but frippery and vanity? what is mankind’s life? Ever surrounded by danger, It lasts only a short time. Of what help is our knowledge? shall it, when we must die, be of great advantage? of what help is power and honour, however illustrious it may be? can it delight us then? The renown for which we strive, which we consider to be immortal, is only a false delusion; as soon as the spirit has departed, and our body is deceased, no one shall ask what we accomplished here. How quickly shall that which, with our labour and diligence, we have won, trickle away? Can that which we possess protect us from death? and does not everything perish when one dies? What are the joys of life? how quickly does not anxiety and suffering and rue follow after pleasure? what is that which we flaunt? where shall you achieve honour that must not vanish at the end? What are even all thrones? are there any earthly crowns that flourish without fading? can the heraldic crimson protect you from the terrors of the grave? the crown snatch you away from death? As, when the sun rises, the rose stands blooming in its most beautiful finery, and yet, wilted, bows its head before the evening appears: thus we, too, bloom and fade. We grow happily upon earth and hope to achieve maturity, free of pain and anxieties: but in the most beautiful days, before we yet bear fruit, death’s storm rends us in twain. We count upon year after year; meanwhile the bier is carried to our door. We depart from our loved ones, who weep over us helplessly, and we are covered by the darkness of the grave. Let us ponder this well, and turn ourselves toward Heaven while it stands open for us. He who wishes to reach [Heaven] must not cling to the world, which with its pleasures shall someday pass away.
About the headline (FAQ)
Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2021 by Sharon Krebs, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Based on:
- a text in German (Deutsch) by Andreas Gryphius, né Greif (1616 - 1664), no title
This text was added to the website: 2021-06-13
Line count: 66
Word count: 364